


everything will glow for you

by zouisau



Category: One Direction
Genre: M/M, Multi, Other, Pining, Polyamorous relationship, also i know nothing about aimee im sorry, i didn't know how to write liam in so he's not actually in this lmao sorry, i dont know, i dont know what to put here, zourry!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-18
Updated: 2014-08-18
Packaged: 2018-02-13 16:29:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2157435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zouisau/pseuds/zouisau
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is there as well, Zayn draped across his back, clinging to Louis, his mouth tracing over any exposed part of Louis’ skin, not bothering to be discreet as his hands roam. Louis is laughing at something the blonde is saying and it makes Harry smile a bit, knowing that Zayn isn’t getting Louis’ full attention but then he remembers that Zayn is hanging off Louis. He frowns, knowing that Zayn is touching and feeling Louis and will probably go home with Louis and that Zayn has probably touched Louis everywhere, kissed everywhere, that Zayn has loved every part of Louis and Harry hasn’t, he tries to ignore the flare of jealousy in his abdomen deciding he definitely, definitely hates Zayn.</p><p>or an AU where Zayn is a stripper, Louis takes Harry on maybe-dates, and Harry's definitely confused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	everything will glow for you

**Author's Note:**

> please be nice with this, it's very self-indulgent because i really just wanted zourry. i hope the characterization is okay.  
> also this was a bit longer than i hoped but i hope it's okay!!  
> unbeta'd so mistakes are definitely mine.  
> title from 'the love club' by lorde.  
> obviously i know nothing/own nothing etc.

 

 

“Nick,” Harry whines, dragging his feet a bit. He knows he’s drawing stares from the people passing them on the sidewalk, but he can’t really be bothered to care. This was not what he had in mind when he had suggested that he and Nick spend some time together. In all honesty, when Harry had mentioned spending Saturday night with Nick he was hoping Nick would understand what Harry really wanted was to sit on Nick’s couch and take advantage of Nick’s sound system and maybe watch Love, Actually and try to forget about the demanding customers of the bakery, that sometimes just didn’t understand that _no_ means _no not even in the back and really do they expect a bakery to have back room stocked with muffins and cakes_. Harry hadn’t actually expected Nick to actually, well, want to go _out_. Like properly. 

And it wasn’t even the going out part that Harry was really complaining about. It was _where_ they were headed. The sign lit brightly in the early summer night. “Nick,” Harry tries to pull Nick back a bit. “Nick.” He draws the word out a bit. His efforts are fruitless, Nick just drags him on like a rag doll.

“Harry,” Nick says, rather dry. “Stop acting like a child. I swear.” Nick pulls Harry in through the door, greeting the bouncer that was standing outside the strip club, showing him both his and Harry’s wristsbands. Nick seemed to be familiar with the bouncer, as he waved them in carelessly not bothering to ask for IDs, greeting Nick by name and giving Harry a quick once-over. He really had to reconsider his friends if Nick frequented the strip club enough to be acquainted with the bouncer.

Not that Harry was new to strip clubs, but usually the one’s he attended were more subdued, located in side streets and mostly unmarked, rather than located on a busy street and displaying the provocative sign above the entrance- neon lights lighting up two half-naked woman done in some mod-retro pin-up whose legs swung up and done rhythmically. It wasn’t discreet at all. 

“We’re just having a laugh, Harry.” Nick says, leading them through the dark entryway and onto the main room where the illuminated high tables were the main source of light; the room outlined in small yellow lights following the edges of the walls. The tables were all about a meter from each other and glowing white, a silver pole located in the middle of each, and couches seemingly randomly placed around the floor, all facing the high tables. “Aimee’s already here,” Nick says, not letting Harry’s wrist go and he checks his phone. “And the show should be starting soon.” He glances at Harry. “Just a laugh, I promise. Relax a bit, yeah.” 

Harry let’s himself be dragged forward and let’s out a small sigh, hoping he’d be able to get away before the real show started. The club was definitely less seedy than the places he had gone to before, the whole place seemingly high-class; older men and women enjoying each other’s company; almost as if it was a small play rather than, well, a strip club.

Nick leads Harry to a couch where Aimee’s seated. “Nick! Harry!” she stands happily, enveloping them each in a hug. “Sit! I got us some drinks.” She smiles and sits down herself. 

The beginning of the show goes by rather slow for Harry. As both of his friends get drunker they seem to not notice that Harry isn’t participating quite as enthusiastically. The show had started when most of the couches were filled, and both boys and girls had climbed on to the platforms to perform some sort of choreographed routine. Harry was slightly entranced, the show wasn’t as provocative as he had thought it would be, at least not yet, it was still early in the night. 

Harry again noticed how much better this club was than the one’s he had previously attended. No one was trying to drunkenly sweet talk any of the dancers, and no one’s dick was out yet, which was really more than he could hope for. 

“That bloke’s rather fit, isn’t he?” Aimee muttered from his left, nudging Harry a bit. Nick leaned over Harry, raising his drink to his lip and taking a sip and nodding, eyes not leaving the raven-haired dancer. Harry doesn’t say much, just gives a small grunt, because it’s true the boy is rather fit. His cheekbones are sharp, and his eyes are dark in the light of the club, there’s slight stubble adorning his jaw. He’s definitely fit.

Nick laughs a bit, “Think we should book a room? Us three? How much you think he costs for a private show?” Aimee giggles, both are probably more drunk than they realize.

Harry shifts uncomfortably, “I’m uh, going to get a drink.” Neither Nick or Aimee pay much attention to him as he gets up and heads towards the bar. 

There’s a girl working near where he stands and she offers him a smile, “What will it be?” He orders a pint, knowing it’s not exactly the right drink for the occasion (seeing as most of the people seated on the couches are sipping whiskey slowly and watching attentively) but knowing he could sip it slowly with no burn, and prolong his time before he heads over to his giggling friends. 

The bar is empty except for him and a blonde boy in a corner talking to the other bartender. Harry isn’t sure if he should talk to the bartender or not, she doesn’t seem busy but then again this isn’t his preferred location for making friends or well, small conversation.

She seems to make a decision for him, “First time here?”

Harry nods once, takes a small sip before speaking, “Yeah, sorta got dragged along with some friends, you know…” he trails off not sure how to elaborate. He wonders if he wears it on his forehead, a big sign that says ‘newbie idiot not sure what he’s doing here.’ It’s how he feels and he’s sure everyone who looks at him longer than two seconds can tell. He’s never been quite good at hiding his emotions.

“Quite some friends, huh?” the girl gives him a bright smile. “I”m Eleanor.”

“Harry.” he says. His back is turned to where the platforms are located, but suddenly there’s a loud hollering sound and lots of cheering, he resists the urge to turn around to check what’s happening on stage not sure he wants to know.

“Don’t like the show much?” and that’s a new voice, Harry looks up. The other bartender has an arm around Eleanor’s shoulders, the blonde he was talking to earlier gone. 

Harry shrugs a bit, “Guess not.” The bartender is quite pretty, all sharp angles, his hair tied back, headband in place.

“Me and El have it practically memorized, see it so much.” He offers Harry a smile. “I’m Louis,” he adds after a beat, extending his hand.

“Harry,” Harry says shaking Louis’ hand, liking the way his long fingers wrap around Louis’ palm. 

“Well, Harry, you can definitely hang here if you’d like. Get rather sick of the show me self, usually I just watch the people that come in. El, here, however, _loves_ the show, don’t you El?”

El blushing slightly, swats at Louis as she slides from under his arm. “Shut up. Not like you don’t enjoy the view, either.” 

Her words were meant to imply something but Louis brushes it off,laughing, “Everyone’s beautiful.” El huffs a bit and turns opening a door walking into what Harry assumes to be the back room. She’s still blushing, a rose color painting her cheeks. Louis shrugs and grins at Harry. “She kinda has like a thing with Sophia, over there.” Harry doesn’t turn, to where Louis’ motioning. Eyes taking in the bartender. “So what brings you here if you’re not even going to watch?” Louis gaze swoops in on Harry and Harry tries not to shift in his seat, he feels his veins buzzing with the attention.

“My friends are over there,” Harry motions carelessly behind him, eyes not wandering away from Louis’ own shining ones. 

Louis nods, eyes drifting from Harry and scanning the room as if he could recognize Aimee and Nick. “They enjoying the show?”

“Yeah,” and Harry wants Louis eyes again. Harry’s debating the pros and cons of hitting on someone while at a strip club when Eleanor strolls back in. 

“Miss anything important?” She asks, sliding her arms around Louis’ middle and Harry tries not to get jealous as Louis pulls her in with an arm around her shoulders, because well it’s ridiculous. He doesn’t even know Louis for god’s sake, although he wouldn’t be opposed to getting to know Louis. Plus, Louis had made it clear that Eleanor obviously had her sights set on someone else.

Louis shakes his head, gaze now captured by the dancers and Harry’s itch to turn and watch whatever’s occupying Louis’ attention is barely stifled by his own desire to absorb every inch of Louis’ profile- from his sharp nose to the way his eyelashes cast shadows over his cheekbones. 

“Zayn looks rather nice, doesn’t he?” Eleanor says, smiling a bit, her pretty eyes focused on Louis. 

There’s a twitch of a smile on Louis’ pink lips, Harry wouldn’t have cached it if he wasn’t looking so intently. Louis’ eyes crinkle a bit as he says, “Yeah, lovely as usual.” 

Harry tries not to scowl, turning to Eleanor, “Who’s Zayn?” He knows his voice sounds a bit like a child who’s whining for attention but he can’t be bothered to care. 

Eleanor smiles knowingly, “The bloke over there, dark hair, lots of tattoos.” Harry turns scanning all the dancers as he notices the other Eleanor’s referring to. It’s the same boy that Aimee and Nick were giggling over and Harry instantly decides he hates Zayn. Fit looks be fucked. He can feel himself pouting as he turns around to face Eleanor and Louis, neither who are paying attention to him, both still watching Zayn. And yeah, Harry definitely hates Zayn.

“My friends were thinking of booking him for a room.” He says, even though he knows that the thought had only been fleeting and neither Nick or Aimee had truly been ready to hand over credit cards for a private show. 

Louis smiles, eyes finally focusing back on Harry and Harry instantly feels warmth.Eleanor speaks, “Yeah? Think they can afford a private show?” There’s a smile in her eyes, as if she knows something Harry doesn’t.

Harry shrugs, “Maybe.” He knows that they probably think that ‘his friends’ is code for ‘himself’ but he can’t be bothered to insist it’s really his friends. 

Eleanor laughs a bit, “Zayn’s a bit exclusive.”

“Bit expensive,” Louis cuts in.

“Worth it, though. One of the best.” Eleanor states. She smirks before adding, “From what I’ve heard at least.”

“The best,” Louis says, glancing at where Harry assumes Zayn is dancing. 

Harry definitely hates Zayn.

Eleanor rolls her eyes, “You’d know, huh, Lou?”

Louis smiles, glancing at the girl under his arm. “Of course, Zayn’s amazing.” He turns to Harry, “Serious, if your mates are interested in booking Zayn for a private show, give me a call, yeah? Here, give me your phone.” He extends his hand, asking for Harry’s phone. This wouldn’t be Harry’s first choice to getting Louis’ number but he’d take what he could get. He hands over his phone, happily, not trying to seem overeager. Louis continues talking, “Zayn’s good, you know? If you came through me, he’d definitely be interested. Doesn’t usually give a show to just anyone, but well.” Louis hands back Harry’s phone.

Harry’s mood sours a bit, knowing that Zayn and Louis are close enough for _special_ _favors_ , that they’re close enough for Louis to _personally_ know that Zayn is good, jealous that Eleanor is teasing Louis about _Zayn_. He knows his mood is irrational and he tries not to pout, “Can I have three more shots, please? Should probably get back to my friends, and all. Probably worried I got lost or whatever.” He knows that neither Aimee or Nick actually care, probably hardly noticed Harry’s absence, he hadn’t really been contributing much to their fits of giggles and comments about the show.

Louis gives him a smile, still bright. “Of course.” As he hands him his shots he says, “Call, yeah?”

 

+++

 

Both Aimee and Nick are plastered as Harry maneuvers both of them out of the club. The show had long been over, but some of the club goers had gone into private rooms, many however were still lounging around the room drinking and talking with some of the dancers. 

The club was definitely classier than Harry had anticipated and he wondered how expensive the wristbands were, if the designer suits the other club goers wore were any indication he figured Nick had really dished out in bringing Harry along. Except for the atrocious sign above the entrance it was all very nice.

Harry glances back at the bar, where Eleanor is talking to the blonde boy that had first been there when Harry had gone to the bar, along with a brunette girl who Harry recognized as one of the dancers from the show. Louis is there as well, Zayn draped across his back, clinging to Louis, his mouth tracing over any exposed part of Louis’ skin, not bothering to be discreet as his hands roam. Louis is laughing at something the blonde is saying and it makes Harry smile a bit, knowing that Zayn isn’t getting Louis’ full attention but then he remembers that Zayn is hanging off Louis. He frowns, knowing that Zayn is touching and feeling Louis and will probably go home with Louis and that Zayn has probably touched Louis everywhere, kissed everywhere, that Zayn has loved every part of Louis and Harry hasn’t, he tries to ignore the flare of jealousy in his abdomen deciding he definitely, definitely hates Zayn.

 

+++

 

Harry doesn’t call Louis. 

He doesn’t think of Louis at all, in fact. 

Not when he’s cooking Aimee and Nick breakfast the next morning. Not when he’s reprimanding them for drinking too much, giving them both ibuprofen and water. 

And _definitely_ not while he’s in his own bed that night, hands wrapped around himself. 

And so what if he imagines pink lips wrapping around him, so what if he pictures bright eyes looking at him through long eyelashes.

It’s no one’s business.

And it’s definitely no one’s business if he comes with a sigh and the thought of a boy he just met.

He doesn’t think of Louis _at all_.

 

+++

 

When Nick invites Harry to hang out two weeks later Harry assumes he means to have a laugh again. The prospect of seeing Louis again has Harry dressing carefully, all thoughts of _probably definitely taken_ and _Zayn_ erased from his mind. He chooses to wear a sheer black button-up and fixing himself in his tightest black jeans, the one’s he usually wears when he’s trying to pull at a club. 

When Nick’s door swings open Harry’s met by Nick looking like he just crawled out of bed, wearing artfully burned out red sweats and a white t-shirt. 

“What are you wearing?” Nick asks, as he takes in Harry’s appearance.

“Thought we were going out.” Harry wastes no time in side stepping Nick and making himself at home.

Nick frowns a bit, “You trying to pull or something?”

“Just wanted to look nice,” Harry shifts, knowing his chances of going home with Louis were slim to none with Zayn hanging around. And really, he wouldn’t mind going home with Louis even if Zayn was still hanging around, that should really be a testament in his character, but, well.

Nick sighs, hands running through his hair. “I thought we were just going to watch a movie or something, order some take-out.” He sighs again. “Should have told me you wanted to hit the clubs, I look like shit.”

Harry pouts a bit, “Thought we could have a laugh again. Call Aimee and all.”

Nick raises an eyebrow, a trick Harry has yet to master. “You want to visit the strip club again? Any particular reason? Because if I recall correctly you were whining like a toddler last time.”

Harry raises his chin a bit, “I changed my mind, if you must know. I’m allowed to do that.”

Nick rolls his eyes but heads towards his bedroom. “Call Aimee then, I need to look somewhat presentable.”

 

+++

 

Aimee is happy to be back at the club, arms wrapped around Harry as she leads them towards an empty couch. Nick trailing behind them. “Dressed to the nines, aren’t we Styles?” She teases. “You know you have to pay, right? And you definitely won’t pull.”

“Wasn’t trying to pull, Aims.” Harry says. It’s not a complete lie. He wasn’t trying to pull anyone he had to pay, after all he was hoping Louis could be easily persuaded.

Aimee rolls her eyes, “Whatever, Styles, I’m on to you.

Harry opts to stay seated on the couch instead of heading towards the bar, sipping on some fruity drink as he watches the show. The lights are illuminating the front in a soft glow but still leaving most of the room in semi-darkness. The countertops gleam a blinding white. His eyes are probably burning into Zayn whose body is coated in silver glitter, sparkling. Like most of the audience, Harry’s enthralled by the boy. There’s a heat somewhere in his lower abdomen that he pointedly tries to ignore. Something about Zayn demands attention. His eyes stay on Zayn even as a lot of the girls start taking off their tops. He can’t help but be awed when Zayn starts using his pole, suddenly feeling ridiculous in his sheer top. Zayn’s body moves gracefully even as he twists himself on the pole. And even though Harry had already sworn that he hated Zayn, Harry could admit that Zayn was beautiful, and with a sigh he could definitely admit that Zayn and Louis made a beautiful pair. That their bodies wrapped around each other would surely be stunning.

Harry’s eyes stay on Zayn even when the lights were brightened a bit, the show over. His eyes followed Zayn as he heads to a corridor off to the side, watching as he disappears through a hallway to where Harry assumes the dressing rooms are located. 

“He’s quite something, isn’t he?” Aimee says, nudging Harry’s side and leaning in a bit. Nick is currently at the bar getting more drinks. A bar, that Harry has very distinctively been ignoring.

“Yeah, beautiful.” Harry says before he can stop himself, because even though he had already decided that Zayn was in fact beautiful, he wasn’t exactly willing to admit it out loud. “I mean, he’s alright.” 

Aimee snorts, “Yeah, okay, alright. He’s good, is what he is. Fit.” She takes a sip of his drink. “Is that why we’re here, you want to sleep with him? Because-”

Harry cuts her off. “Of course not, Aimee.” 

“So if he came up to you and asked you to suck him off in the toilets you wouldn’t?” Aimee raises an eyebrow and Harry really needs to figure out how to Aimee and Nick can pull it off so effortlessly.

Harry frowns, letting Aimee’s question settle. “I mean,” Harry starts. He was never very good at lying, and he had to admit that if Zayn were to come up to him he wouldn’t exactly say no, he _couldn't_ really. “If he were to come up… to me… and say that…” He was stumbling not sure how to say ‘yes but I’d rather Louis also be there’, or ‘yes I would, if Louis were watching’, or ‘I’d rather he fuck off so Louis can pay attention to me.’ “I mean, yeah, I’m not like _opposed_ to the idea.” And he’s not, Zayn’s fit, it’s just a bit more complicated.

Aimee grins. “Does Harry have a bit of a crush?”

“Fuck off,” Harry laughs. Aimee laughs along with him as Nick approaches them.

“What’s so funny?” He says, handing them each a drink and sitting by Aimee.

“Harry has a crush.” Aimee says gleefully.

“A crush?” Nick says. “Is that why you’re dressed like that? You trying to catch the eye of a dancer?”

“No.” Harry says at the same time Aimee says, “Yes.” Harry shakes his head and Aimee continues, “he likes Zayn.”

“Do you?” Nick smiles knowingly. “Everybody likes Zayn.” He takes a sip of his drink. “It’s infatuation, mostly. Just the fantasy of being with him, it’ll pass.” And Harry should really ask how long Nick and Aimee have been frequenting the club if their infatuation with Zayn has passed, Harry can’t imagine anyone getting over Zayn- not with the cheekbones and the endless eyebrows and the dark eyes. Not with Zayn being Zayn.

Aimee nods taking a sip of her own drink, “Learned to just enjoy the view, rather than chase after him myself. Doesn’t really seem interested in anyone watching really. Why would he, probably thinks we’re all a bunch of perverts or something.”

Harry hums, it’s not like he’s into Zayn, although the fantasy that Aimee had presented him with does have him feeling a little tight in his jeans.

“Think we should be heading out, yeah?” Nick says, standing as he finishes off his drink. 

 

+++

 

Harry doesn’t know exactly why he does it. Louis had said to text him if he was interested in a private room with Zayn, and well Harry was _slightly_ interested in a private room with Zayn. And well, _technically_ Louis had said to text him if Harry’s _friends_ were interested not Harry himself, but, details. 

He tries to be casual, a simple ‘Hiiii it’s Harry x’ and then worrying about whether or not Louis would remember him, he texts, ‘from the club’ and then because that wasn’t telling enough, he texted, ‘you said if i wanted a private room w zayn i can text u ?’ and well that wasn’t exactly why Harry was texting but… again, details.

Louis answer comes a few minutes later and Harry opens the text instantly. ‘hi harry yes I remember. u interested then?’

And the thing is, Harry is interested, but that’s not why he was texting; ‘maybe’ he answers.

Louis’ message comes through almost instantly, ’come tonight, yeah? i’ll introduce u.’

Harry knows he shouldn’t. He has an early shift at the bakery and he was just at the strip club yesterday night but still, the prospect of seeing Louis- of Louis waiting for him, maybe even wanting to see him- made him type out a simple ‘yeah okay see ya tonight x’.

 

+++

 

Harry doesn’t ask Nick or Aimee to come with him to the club, not exactly looking forward to sharing the fact that he may or may not be pining over a boy he’s only really talked to once. He shows up a bit later than usual, the show is over when he enters the main room, the dancers getting off the high tables. Harry heads straight to the bar. He hopes he looks good enough that Louis would consider booking a private room for them instead, or maybe even for Louis to swoop Harry away and confess his newfound undying love.

Louis and Eleanor are both behind the bar; Eleanor is talking softly to the same brunette from the first time, one of the dancers. Louis is serving drinks to the same blonde boy from the first night. 

“Hi,” Harry says softly as he approaches. Louis’ hair isn’t in the ponytail it was in before, instead arranged in a seemingly careless fashion, as if he had just rolled out of bed and gone out. Harry imagines how it would feel between his fingers; wondering if Louis’ eyes would go dark if Harry were to pull on the strands.

“Harry!” Louis greets happily, eyes crinkling. “How are you, love?” 

Harry beams at the term of endearment, “Good, I’m good. You?”

“I’m great,” Louis says, pouring Harry a shot and handing it to him, “On the house.” He watches as Harry drowns the alcohol and says, “Thought you weren’t going to text. I hyped you up to Zayn and then you never texted back, and I thought maybe you weren’t really interested and were just being polite or something.”

“Yeah, I, uh, sorry about that…” Harry trails off, he glances at the blonde who’s watching the exchange with a glint in his eye.

Louis must realize that the blonde is still there, because he says, “Damn, sorry. Harry this is my mate, Niall. Niall, Harry.” He motions between the two boys. “That’s Sophia over there with El.” Louis says motioning over to the two girls. “Remember, how I told you how they had a thing or whatever.” He shrugs.

Niall snorts, “Think it’s more than just a _thing_ , Lou. Think they’re _girlfriends_.” Niall turns to Harry, “Nice to meet you, mate. Lou’s talked about you, was wondering when I was gonna meet the infamous Harry.”

“Well,” Harry scratches the back of his neck, unsure of what to say. He felt a blush rising in his cheeks, Louis had been talking about him to his mates. It was a nice feeling.

“Zayn!” Louis calls, and the way he says it, so fucking fondly that all the warm feelings pooling in his belly seep out, his mood turning slightly sour. “Come meet Harry, yeah babe?” Harry scowled a bit at the word babe watching as Zayn clung to Sophia, burying his face in her hair. He seemed to do that a lot, cling to people. Harry decided he still didn’t like him, even if he was fit and seemingly cuddly- two things that Harry definitely liked in a person. Zayn untangled himself from Sophia before rounding the bar and pressing himself to Louis back, whispering something in his ear.

“Zayn,” Louis says. “This is Harry, you know the Harry I was talking to you about. His friends had been thinking-”

Zayn cuts Louis off, “Yes, Lou, babe, I remember.” Zayn rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Hi, Harry.” He extends his arm, his other arm still holding Louis close. Harry shakes his hand, if only to appear slightly indifferent. 

“Hi.” Harry says, he’s slightly put off. Zayn is even prettier close up and he and Louis really do look beautiful together. It’s disheartening. “Can I have another?” He motions to his shot glass, taking out his wallet.

“Don’t worry about it, love. I got it.” Louis says, refilling Harry’s glass with a smile. And Harry really, really wants to hate him. He knows it’s not Louis fault, Louis isn’t stringing him along, it’d been pretty obvious that he was with Zayn, but Harry’s heart was stupid and kept fluttering every time Louis looked his way. He wanted to snap at Zayn, tell him to back off and cling to Louis himself. 

Niall smirks, “How come you never call me love?”

Louis smiles brightly, “Harry has curly hair.” As if that answers the question.

Zayn is still clinging to Louis as Louis beams at Harry, reaching over and running it through Harry’s hair tentatively, ruffling it a bit. Harry wants to purr.

“Leave, yeah, Niall. Go bug Sophia and El or something, let the adults talk business.”

And, oh, right. Harry’s only here because Louis thinks Harry wants a show from Zayn. He can’t help but pull away a bit, the hand that Louis’ had threaded into his hair falls away. Niall scowls at Louis’ but bounces off happily towards the couple.

“Now,” Louis says, wrapping his arm around Zayn and bringing him forward, so that his front is pressed to Zayn’s back. “Zayn, babe, explain to Harry what you do, yeah? Be a good boy.” Zayn’s eyelids droop a bit, a dreamy smile planted on his face. He studies Harry through half hooded eyes.

“I guess, it’s a private show, I can give you like one of my usual dances?” He glances at Louis for approval. Louis nods once. Zayn turns back around to face Harry, “Are your friends…?”

“Um,” Harry really doesn’t want this. “Maybe, we could, uh.” He considers his words carefully. “I should probably discuss it a bit more with them, I’m, uh, sorry, for wasting your time.” He doesn’t know how to fess up to his extended lie.

“No, mate, it’s okay, I just.” Zayn shrugs. “Depends how many people are going to be there, you know? Like if you wanted it to be here, it’d have to be through the club, but like, if it was just gonna be you, then like…” Zayn shrugs again, seemingly forgetting that this was supposed to be about Harry’s _friends_ and not Harry himself. “Like it could be somewhere else.” He shrugs again as if the words didn’t imply anything.

Harry wants to point out that Zayn’s boyfriend is literally two centimeters away, still holding onto Zayn, but instead he says, “Can I have another one?” He motions to his shot glass.

Louis laughs, bright and happy, as if his boyfriend hadn’t just maybe offered to have sex with Harry (whether for money or not was still not entirely clear to Harry). 

“Course, love, pace yourself, yeah?” Harry drowns his shot, ignoring Louis’ request, and studies the way Zayn seems to be completely subdued by Louis’ pure presence, no longer paying attention to Harry. Zayn leans into Louis and mutters something that makes Louis smile brightly. Louis turns to Harry who had been watching quietly, “Should probably get Z here home.” Zayn’s practically dead weight in Louis’ arms. And _home_ , the way Louis had said it implied that Zayn and him had a _home_ together. Harry tries to control the fire burning in his stomach. “El, do you mind?” Louis says, turning to the thin girl.

Eleanor rolls her eyes, “You know I don’t. Get your boy home.”

_Your boy._

Maybe this was a bad idea.

“I should probably get going too.” Harry mutters. 

“I can take you, yeah?” Louis says, still holding onto Zayn who looked like he could topple over any second. Harry wondered if he got like that after every show, or if he had been drinking before Harry had come in.

Harry hesitates, before nodding. Any time spent with Louis regardless of accompanying bodies was treasured. “Yeah, okay.”

Louis smiles in that crinkly way of his, “Hold, Z for a ‘mo yeah? Let me get my jacket and keys.” He hands Zayn’s weightless body, and Zayn instantly wraps his arms around Harry’s torso, clinging to his shirt even from across the bar. Harry can smell alcohol on him and something that distinctly brings Harry memories of sticky, sweet smoke and a feeling of easiness. Zayn had definitely done more than drink. Harry wondered if Zayn and Louis had ever blown smoke into each other’s mouths, and although the thought was mildly pleasing it still upset him, knowing that Zayn and Louis were very obviously in a relationship, a loving relationship that Harry was no part of. 

Louis comes back a minute later, jean jacket on, keys twirling in his fingers, and Harry brushes any thoughts of him blowing smoke into Zayn’s mouth away as the boy takes Zayn from Harry’s arms. “C’mon Zayn, wake up a bit, yeah, babe.” He slaps his fingers lightly on Zayn’s cheek, who just smiles contentedly and nuzzles into the touch. Louis leans in a bit, whispering in Zayn’s ear, “Be a good boy, yeah.” Harry tries not to blush as he thinks of Louis saying that to _him_. Of Harry clinging to Louis and being reprimanded softly, of being under Louis and Louis complimenting him, telling _Harry_ what a good boy he was. Of Louis, Louis, Louis.

Louis leads both Zayn and Harry outside, heading towards his car, parked off to the side. He opens the backseat, dropping Zayn in and strapping him in. “You can get in the front, Harry.” He gives Harry a gentle nudge towards the passenger seat.

Harry gets in obediently, suddenly extremely aware of the boy slipping into the driver’s seat. “Fuck,” Louis says. “Would you mind watching Zayn, I just, I forgot my wallet. I’ll be right back, just gotta run in real quick.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Harry nods blindly.

“Thank you,” Louis beams and Harry feels like he would jump into shark-infested waters as long as Louis never stopped looking at Harry like he had personally set the sun in the sky.

But, Zayn, right. Zayn and Louis. Harry frowns a bit, watching as Louis jogs lightly to the bar and disappears inside. He glances at Zayn who’s staring dreamily at Harry. “Harry. Harry,” Zayn breathes sweetly, his hand going to his crotch and squeezing himself. “Harry…”

“Zayn, uh,” Harry looks away. “Stop, yeah?” Harry’s sure it was the effect of the marijuana but it made him uncomfortable, knowing that the boy of his dream’s boyfriend was trying to seduce him. Well, sorta. He shifts in his seat a bit, ignoring the tightening in his jeans and squeezing his eyes shut trying to wipe the image of Zayn in the backseat.

Zayn leans across the two front seats. “Hi, Harry.”

Harry opens his eyes, glancing at the boy from his peripheral vision, “Hi.”

Zayn smiles lazily and falls back in his seat, closing his eyes.

Louis returns quickly enough, wallet clutched in his hand. “Sorry about that, ready?”

Harry nods once. “It’s okay, yeah, let’s go.”

 

+++

 

He doesn’t talk much during the ride, feeling weird about the Zayn situation.

Harry knew that technically it wasn’t much different from earlier in the night when Zayn had offered to sleep with Harry (or at least do more than what was exactly allowed at the club), but it felt different. This time Zayn had done it without Louis there, and it felt, _wrong_. 

Louis must have felt that there was something off, because when they finally arrive in front of Harry’s flat (which Harry had mumbled his address when asked), Zayn snoring softly in the backseat, he turns his whole body facing Harry. “Is there…?” He starts, before trying again. “Did I do something?”

“What?” Harry’s too confused to ponder what Louis’ on about.

“Did I? Did, uh, Zayn suggestion, at the club, was that too much? Too forward? I mean, I thought you were like into it?” Louis seems to be struggling with words. 

“No, it, uh.” Harry doesn’t want to tell on Zayn. He feels guilty. Like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar. Except he wasn’t caught and technically _he_ was the metaphorical cookie jar. “I just have to think about it, yeah?” He tries his best smile but he can tell Louis doesn’t buy it, his own smile subdued. 

“Yeah, okay, Harry. Sorry about, you know. Sometimes we can come off a little strong.” Louis shrugs a bit carelessly but still looking sheepish. “See ya around, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Harry breathes, getting out of the car. 

He tries not to think of Louis words as he climbs the steps to his flat. 

_We can come off a little strong. We. We. We._

 

+++

 

He doesn’t think about crinkly blue eyes that night. He doesn’t think of a lithe body spread out, fingers groping as he stares at Harry with dark eyes through hooded eyelids. He doesn’t think of his name whispered in the darkness like a mantra. He doesn’t think of the words love or babe or about being a good boy.

He doesn’t think about any of it as he comes that night, a whimper escaping his lips.

 

+++

 

Harry avoids the club and he avoids his phone. Knowing that if within reach he’d probably call Louis, or worse, that if Louis had been trying to communicate with him he’d probably tell him about Zayn.

Instead, Harry finds himself hanging around Nick’s apartment whenever he’s free from his coursework or work, draping himself over Nick’s couch and taking full advantage of Nick’s fancy sound system.

“Nick,” he whines, as Nick walks through the front door carrying take-out.

Nick doesn’t seem surprised to see him lying around, instead he heads into the adjoining kitchen, grabs two forks and hands a container of curry to Harry. “You ever have anywhere else to be?” He says, but there’s no bite in his tone.

“Nick, I’m bored.” Harry says, as if he hadn’t been hiding out in Nick’s apartment for the better part of the last week. 

Nick, rolls his eyes good-naturedly but doesn’t answer, instead stealing the control and changing it to an Law and Order re-run.

“Nick,” Harry whines again, drawing out the name.

“Harry.” Nick fixes him with a blank stare. “Are you finally going to share why you’ve been hanging around my flat all week? Because if you’re not, I’d rather you not talk, the episode just got good.”

Harry’s sure they’ve seen this episode before. He bites his bottom lip, pouting a little bit. “Let’s say, hypothetically of course, that a friend of mine, hits on another friend of mine, even though the first friend has a boyfriend, and that maybe my second friend has a crush on his friends boyfriend, and that maybe the boyfriend suggested a threesome of sorts? But maybe my second friend was just reading too much into it? But that the boyfriend definitely suggested that the first friend have sex with the second friend. And the second friend is definitely considering it. But what if-”

Nick cuts him off. “Harry, can you just explain to me- slowly- what’s going on.”

Harry considers his options for a moment, Nick is his friend, sure he’s a bit big-mouthed but really other than Nick and Aimee, Harry didn’t really care much for other’s opinions. Plus, Nick was good when it truly mattered. “I guess,” Harry starts. “At the club, the other day?” He waits until Nick nods telling him that yes, he knows what club. “I sorta met this bartender? And I kinda got his number?”

Nick grins, “Sorta?”

“Not sorta. Definitely met a bartender.” Harry pouts a bit, wishing Nick wouldn’t get stuck on things like diction.

“That’s why you were so insistent on going back.” Nick smirks.

“Well, yes, but. I think the bartender- Louis, his name’s Louis- I think he has a boyfriend, maybe, sorta? Zayn, the dancer?” 

Nick’s eyebrows shoot up. “Zayn.” Harry’s glad Nick didn’t focus on the sorta, because he definitely does not want to completely admit ZaynandLouis outloud.

“Yeah, Zayn.” Harry repeats, scowling a bit. He doesn’t like how Nick says it, as if Zayn was out of Louis’ league. “Anyway, I like Louis.” He finishes off lamely, that wasn’t even what he had wanted to share- not really- but, well.

“So you like someone who’s taken? That’s it?” Nick says. And Nick doesn’t _get_ it. And Harry isn’t surprised, Nick isn’t really in touch with his feelings, doesn’t care about relationships and commitment and all the things Harry cares about. He couldn’t really expect him to fully understand, he had hoped that Nick would at least offer _some_ advice. Any advice.

Harry shrugs, that wasn’t really it.

Nick raises an eyebrow, “In your hypothetical situation you said that the boyfriend offered a threesome, maybe, possibly? Louis, I’m assuming, can be the face for this boyfriend in this hypothetical situation. And Zayn can be the first friend, just at face value, yeah? And it’s only fair we give a face to this second friend, perhaps you can pretend to be the second friend, yes Harry?” They’re not really questions and Nick goes on. “So, Louis the boyfriend, is with Zayn the friend, and they want to… maybe possibly organize a threesome with you, the other friend.”

Harry shrugs, “Sorta. Maybe. It wasn’t clear.”

Nick smiles. “Jump on it. Zayn’s proper fit. Once in a lifetime opportunity, no?” 

“That is unhelpful, Nick. And I resent you for that.” Harry pouts. “Plus, I’d mentioned that the second friend, maybe possibly perhaps had a little teeny tiny crush on the boyfriend, didn’t I?”

“How tiny?” and Nick knows Harry. He knows that Harry falls and falls hard. Knows that Harry cant just imagine holding someone’s hand after a dinner date, that Harry goes the full nine yards. That Harry jumps straight into wanting to adopt pets and take out a mortgage and meeting parents. Harry shrugs, not willing to admit that he could definitely envision bright blue-eyed children running on a vast green lawn. 

“Oh, Harry.” Nick frowns in slight pity. “I’m sure Louis is lovely, but you know you can’t.” Nick doesn’t have to add the ‘not again’, it’s implied. It hadn’t gone over well last time, it never did. Both Nick and Harry and even Aimee were familiar with that.

“I know, I just.” Harry wishes Aimee was there. Aimee would suggest a threesome and not worry about morning-afters or feelings. “Maybe… I mean… I really like him, Nick.”

Nick frowns. “It’s not worth it, Harry, you know that.”

And the thing is Harry does know that. He knows that no matter how good the nights are it always hurts in the morning when he wakes up alone. He can never do the casual thing. It’s never casual for him.

But maybe, just maybe for Louis it could be worth it. 

 

+++

 

Harry knows he’s got a problem when he’s been walking up and down across the street in front of the entrance of the club three days later. He knows he either has to gather the courage to go inside or walk away. 

He goes inside. 

The show has long been over, the time Harry had spent outside debating his options was longer that he had thought. There’s a few people still lingering around, drinking and laughing and emerging from back rooms. He heads straight to the bar. 

“Eleanor, hi.” Louis isn’t there.

The girl smiles at Harry. “Harry, haven’t seen you in a bit. How are you?”

“Good, good.” He doesn’t know if he should make chit-chat before asking about Louis.

“He doesn’t work today, honey.” And she says it softly, it makes Harry’s heart hurt. He probably looks pathetic. Completely translucent as he pines over a taken boy.

“Yeah, okay.” He gets off his seat. He hadn’t even been in the club for five minutes.

“You can stay, yeah?” Eleanor says. “Meet Sophia, have a drink with us?”

He doesn’t ask about Zayn, although his palms itch his heart yearning to, but instead nods once. “Yeah, okay.” 

 

+++

 

Sophia is lovely.She laughs good-naturedly and smiles brightly at Harry. Eleanor looks at her lovingly and Sophia looks back with the same amount of adoration in her eyes. It’s not long before the bar has cleared out and it’s only the three of them, plus the bouncer who’s waiting for them to close up.

“Let me grab my stuff from the back, and we can head out, yeah?” Sophia says before heading down the corridor.

“She’s lovely.” Harry says as Eleanor stares after her.

“She is, isn’t she?” Eleanor smiles and turns to Harry. “I can let Louis know you dropped by, if you’d like? Or you know, you can just come back tomorrow? I’ll put you on the list if you’d like, that way you wouldn’t have to keep paying for entry.”

Harry shakes his head a bit. “No, I should probably. I mean, there’s Zayn.”

Eleanor nods once, she seems to contemplate something, opening her mouth a bit as if she was stressing to find the right words. Finally she closes it and the corner of her mouth tilts down a bit as she says, “Okay, Harry.”

 

+++

 

Harry doesn’t go to the bar.

But Nick does. He tells Harry this as they’re lounging on Aimee’s couch. 

“Saw your boy,” and Harry’s heart swoops at those words _his boy_. “Louis the bartender. Proper fit. Cute, really.”

Harry scowls, “I know.” He bites back the words _back off_.

“Didn’t offer me a threesome.” 

“Good.” Harry spits back.

Nick grins. “You know Aiden?” The conversation seemed to have veered off it’s path, much like it always does when Nick’s involved. Aimee makes a soft sound from where she’s sleeping on the other couch, curled into herself.

“Yeah, I know Aiden.” Aiden Grimshaw was one of Nick’s old friends from uni. They’d bonded over having the same last name. 

“Well, when I met your lovely Louis, he seemed awfully familiar.”

“Did he?” Harry can’t really be bothered to fully feed into Nick, although he really, really wants to. His whole being wanting to learn everything about Louis even if it was useless facts and tidbits of information.

“He used to be Aiden’s roommate in uni. They’re still friends.”

And Harry’s heart lurches a bit. The prospect that him and Louis could have crossed paths through mutual friends made him feel warm. “Oh.” He tries not to think of fate and white picket fences and Zayn.

Nick keeps grinning. “Oh.” He says himself.

 

+++

 

Harry doesn’t question it when Nick asks Harry out for drinks. “ _Not_ the strip club.” He says before Harry can ask. “Aims is coming along, and I’d already said you’d come so.” Giving him no choice in the matter as he finds himself heading to a pub downtown with Aimee. Nick telling them that he’ll be meeting them there.

Nick isn’t there when they get to the pub and they head back into a booth and order pints for themselves as they wait for Nick to arrive. There’s a telly over the bar where a re-run of a football match is playing. 

“There’s Nick, fucking finally.” Aimee says, Harry having been absorbed by trying to follow the match.“Nick!” She says as he approaches, a handsome man behind him. Harry raises an eyebrow, or tries, he hasn’t quite gotten there yet, and wonders if this is Nick’s way of saying he’s changed his ways and has finally found someone he’s willing to spend more than one afternoon with while periodically having sex with them.

“Aimee, Harry. Hello.” Nick says, sitting down and pulling the man with him. “This is Aiden.”

Aiden.

Louis’ mate Aiden.

Aiden offers them a small greeting and says, “Sorry we’re late, Lou said he’d come with us, but something came up and he had to head home before, we figured he’d just meet us here.”

Lou.

Louis.

Harry scowls, sending death glares to Nick, because honestly. First he was telling Harry not to go for it and that only heartbreak can come from chasing after Louis, and now he was inviting Louis along as if they were all mates. Harry needed new friends.

 

+++

 

Harry was three shots in when Louis arrived. Harry waited a half second to see if it was somehow possible that Zayn was hidden behind Louis frame, before he broke out in a grin. Aiden got up as soon as Louis came into view. “Glad you could make it, grace us with your presence.”

Louis rolled his eyes good-naturedly and smiled as he greeted the table, before taking a seat at the edge next to Aiden. He looked around, seeing mostly empty shot glasses, and various snack foods. “Next round on me, yeah?” He stands again, making to head to the bar when Harry shoots up. 

“I’ll help,” and his heart thrums in his chest as he follows Louis. Harry’s eyes take in the way Louis’ white t-shirt hangs off his body, too big on him. The way his black jeans cling to his legs, the way his hair is messy. Harry imagines running his fingers through it, messing it up even more. He wonders if Zayn did that. If that’s why Louis was late. 

“You alright mate?” Louis asks. He doesn’t mention the fact that Harry has steadily been avoiding him. He doesn’t mention the _we_.

“Yeah, uh.” Harry scratches the back of his neck, unsure of what to say or how to feel, the buzzing in his veins too loud.

“Listen,” Louis starts, turning to Harry after ordering shots. “I, uh, I wanted to apologize for the other night. Zayn and I…” He seems a bit lost. “Just, I think we got some signals mixed among us. Think we can start over? Put it behind us?”

Mixed signals. 

He wonders if the _we_ wasn’t a _we._ If it was a slip of the tongue, so used to referring to himself and Zayn as one entity. 

Harry nods. “Yeah, course.”

 

+++

 

Putting it behind them works.

First, in the form of showing up randomly at the strip club, sometimes greeted by Louis, sometimes greeted by ZaynandLouis and sometimes greeted by Eleanor’s knowing face.

Then, it’s Louis wandering into the bakery, leaning on the counter and splitting a cookie with Harry. 

Sometimes, it’s Zayn and Louis wandering into the bakery, Zayn grabbing a muffin and Louis still splitting his cookie in half. Harry finds himself hating Zayn less, but still trying to contain the burning in his abdomen that’s so obviously jealousy. 

Sometimes, it’s Zayn stumbling into the bakery by himself, a can of some energy drink gripped between his long fingers, cigarette tucked behind his ear, and hair an artful disarray. Usually Zayn babbles about some art exhibit or one of his lectures, or someone from the club and watches intently as Harry decorates the cupcakes. Harry thinks Zayn is like a child with too much energy, it’s endearing. He hates Zayn a bit for that, for being just right for Louis.

Then, it’s Louis asking Harry if he’d like to come watch a game at his flat. “Me and Zayn thought we’d catch the game on Thursday. If you’re not busy, you should come by. Be a bit of fun?” and he looks hopeful. His blue eyes giving him away. Harry wants to turn him down. _Me and Zayn_. Instead he finds himself nodding along, the prospect of seeing the inside of Louis’ flat (even if it was a shared flat with Zayn) too good to pass up.

“Love too, Lou.”

And Louis beams and it’s enough.

 

+++

 

Except it’s not. 

It’s Thursday night and Harry finds himself sitting on the single couch in ZaynandLouis flat. Zayn’s head is on Louis’ lap. Louis’ hand is absently stroking through Zayn’s hair, eyes locked on the game. Zayn’s eyes are closed, his face looking blissful. Harry can’t stop watching them from the corner of his eye. He imagines Louis running his fingers through his hair, imagines his head in Louis’ lap, that same blissful expression on his face.

It’s not fair.

Not fair that Zayn gets Louis all to himself and doesn’t share him with Harry.

Something important must have happened in the game because Louis jumps, Zayn’s head slipping from his thighs, and Zayn whines. 

“ _Lou_ ,” he says it with a pout.

“Sorry, babe.” Louis laughs a bit, patting Zayn’s head. “Ref doesn’t know shit.”

Zayn makes a noise of agreement and his eyes droop a bit, looking at Harry from under his thick eyelashes, before he rearranges himself, sits upright and cuddles into Louis. 

Harry stares at the telly. The colors melting together. Wondering if Zayn was doing it on purpose. If hours spent at the bakery had made him transparent, if Zayn was pointedly telling Harry to back off. He glances back to Zayn; Zayn, whose hands are on Louis’ lap. Louis, whose eyes have glazed over, staring blankly at the television, back rigid.

“Shit,” it’s not tangible, doesn’t occupy any space in the living room. No more than a breath, but for Harry it’s as if Louis had just screamed. He shifts a bit, staring at the telly.But then he’s turning his gaze, watching as Zayn’s hand slip under Louis’ shorts. He watches as Louis’ head falls back, as he bites his lip, as his hips do a little jump and his entire body relaxes. He watches as Zayn smirks. 

He watches until Zayn meets his gaze and winks.

 

+++

 

Harry avoids LouisandZayn.

It seems like this is his life now and he’s not sure what to make of it.

It’s not LouisandZayn being a problem. Well, not completely. It’s Zayn. 

It’s Zayn giving Louis a handjob while Harry was only feet away. It’s Zayn winking at Harry. It’s Zayn offering to have sex with Harry (for money or not was still not clear, but definitely sex Harry is almost completely sure of that at this point).

And then there’s Louis, Louis who had mentioned mixed signals and had said _we_.

Louis who still shows up at the bakery every other day and splits a cookie with Harry and doesn’t mention the hand job (maybe because Harry’s not supposed to know).

But Harry knows, and Harry wants to talk about it. He wants to let Louis know, because it’s eating at him. He can’t relax when Louis is around. He feels guilty; guilty of watching a private moment, guilty of getting himself off to the thought of Zayn’s fingers around Louis.

“Everything alright?” Louis asks, biting into a cookie the half the size of Harry’s face.

“Uh, yeah.” Harry says, shoving a piece of cookie into his mouth to keep occupied.

Louis hums. “Yeah, uh, everything’s great. Just a bit busy, you know, with schoolwork and stuff.”

Louis nods apprehensively. “If you’ll take a break from the importance of coursework, maybe you can come over tonight? Zayn said he wanted to try out some new recipe, but knowing him we’ll probably just order take-out and watch a movie again. Should be fun.”

“No, uh, I can’t.” It sounds fake even to Harry’s own ears.

Louis frowns. “You sure everything’s alright?”

Harry nods once, before sighing. “I mean…” And how do you tell a friend that his boyfriend has… been… being odd. Even in his own head, Harry’s not sure what Zayn’s deal is. If he’s just reckless or if there’s something implied. He’s not sure what to make of it. “The other night, at your flat, I kinda saw…” Louis doesn’t seem to get it. “I saw Zayn’s hand…” He doesn’t know how to say it, ‘I saw Zayn’s hand stroking your cock.’ It’s too much.

Realization dawns over Louis face. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

“Okay.” Louis nods once. His face is unreadable, and Harry wonders if he’s mad at him. Then Louis smiles sheepishly, “Guess Zayn and I weren’t being too inconspicuous were we?” He laughs drily once. “Sorry if it made you uncomfortable, or whatever.” 

He doesn’t sound very apologetic, but still Harry finds himself saying, “It’s okay.” He’s not sure if it’s a lie or not.

Louis must have seen the hesitance written on Louis’ face because he adds, “Probably was a bit weird right, seeing Zayn getting me off. Understand if you’re uncomfortable.”Louis looks a bit down, like a kicked puppy and Harry needs to fix it. Knowing he’s responsible for the way Louis looks is worse than the guilt.

“No, I’m… I felt kinda guilty?” Harry rushes to get out. “For not telling you, and then it kinda…” Fueled me that night, and every night since then. “I’d love to still come over, move past it.”

Louis nods once, “I mean, the invitation still stands if you’d like. Promise Zayn and I wont touch each other.” 

Harry nods eagerly, not bothering to add that he _really, really_ wouldn’t mind if Zayn and Louis touched each other, not as long as Harry was also in the room.

 

+++

 

Harry finds himself seated across from Zayn at the table. “Now,” Louis says as he brings in the food. “Zayn tried, but well.” He sets down a plate of Thai food that was from a container originally. “Thought we could pretend.” 

Zayn scowls a bit. “It wasn’t my fault that the noodles burned, you started-” 

Louis coughs and cuts him off, “Yes, well. It’s all behind us.”

Harry notices the blush that seems to color Louis neck but doesn’t comment on it. Deciding he’d rather not know, not if the twitch in his pants would be any testament of how he could react.

Zayn grins devilishly and starts eating. Louis sits down at the head of the table, between Zayn and Harry and starts eating himself.

The whole thing is very formal, and Harry knows he should feel like a third wheel. In theory, the idea wasn’t ideal. Hanging around a couple for a formal dinner, especially a dinner in the couple’s flat. It was all very romantic (or it should have been), yet the balance was there. Louis and Zayn kept Harry involved in the conversation, asked questions, explained jokes that he didn’t quite get, jokes that were obviously shared. He should feel like a third wheel, like the odd one out, but even when Louis and Zayn started holding hands over the table, it was good. Normal. 

If he didn’t know better (and maybe if Zayn wasn’t there) he would feel like he was on a date. But Zayn was there, so when Louis’ leg hooked around his ankle, Harry stiffened, before Louis foot up his calf and Harry melted into it, Zayn and Louis were still holding hands over the table, it meant nothing.

It wasn’t until Zayn was standing, clearing the dishes and groaning to Louis that they could just wash them _tomorrow_ instead of _tonight_ that Harry unhooked his leg from Louis, not wanting to risk Zayn to see it under the table, although Louis hadn’t felt the need to hide it from Zayn.

It wasn’t like Louis had _cheated_ , still, Harry would rather Zayn didn’t know that his boyfriend and his friend had been playing footsie under the table while he was less than a foot away. 

“This was fun, yeah?” and that was Zayn, looking down at Harry, eyebrows raised a bit comically, waiting eagerly for his response.

Harry nodded, eagerly looking between Louis’ shining blue eyes and Zayn’s dark ones. “Yes, it was fun.” 

Zayn grinned wide and happy. “Great! We should do it again, yeah? I’ve been trying to drag Louis to go to this art gallery downtown. Friday, maybe? Around seven? I have to be at work at nine-thirty, but.”

Harry finds himself nodding, “Yeah I’d love to go with you guys. Think I might of heard of the gallery. Is it the one in the historical plaza?”

Zayn nods, “Yeah, great. Yeah. We’ll pick you up? Or you can just come here before? Whatever you’d like.”

“I’ll come by here.” Harry nods, looking at Louis, whose eyes are wide and look almost proud. Fond.

Harry shifts happily, the attention making his whole body feel tingly.

 

+++

 

Harry knows he has no money to keep spending like he is, especially if he’s still planning to go to the art exhibit on Friday (and he definitely is), yet he finds himself nodding to Louis on Wednesday agreeing to go out for a drink that night. 

There’s no Zayn when he gets to the bar, and he asks Louis as soon as he approaches. “Where’s Zayn?”

Louis grins, “Thought it could just be us two this time around, that alright?”

Harry grins. “Of course.” Love spending time with you. He knows it’s wrong on some level, but most of him is just happy to be with Louis. 

Louis orders two drinks, and refuses Harry’s protest to pay for his drink. “On me, Harry.” Harry preens on the inside, but then remembers Zayn and the feeling flees. If there was a way for Harry to have Louis, and for Zayn to still be happy he would literally give up everything. Well, mostly everything, maybe.

It’s not until they’re seated at a booth at the pub and Louis picks up a menu that Harry starts thinking in terms of: _is this a date?_ He doesn’t know how to voice his question, especially considering that Louis is dating Zayn. Yet, here he is, seated across from him. 

“What would you like?” Louis asks. “I usually get the bacon cheeseburger, but Zayn always tries something different when we come ‘round. Think he said the Blue Cheese one was pretty good but I can’t find it.” Louis is rambling.

Harry thinks that maybe Louis shouldn’t mention Zayn when they’re maybe sorta on a date. But, then again Nick and Harry always go out together, but Nick almost never pays for his drinks, so maybe it’s not like a friend thing.

“Think I’ll just get the bacon one as well,” Harry cuts Louis off.

Louis nods, setting down the menu. “So.” He says, shifting a bit, he looks nervous. He makes no move to get up to go order. 

Harry smiles a bit at that, the fact that he can make someone like Louis nervous is… well… it’s nice. 

“Sorry, I usually, uh, don’t do this much.” Louis says, smiling a bit, noticing that Harry had noticed his slight awkwardness.

“Do what?” Harry asks, but he has a good idea what Louis means. Still, he wants to hear the words come out of Louis’ mouth. Wants his suspicions confirmed. 

“You know,” Louis visibly blushes, eyes darting past Harry as to not meet his eyes straight on. “I don’t go on dates very often, don’t date new people very often.”

“Oh.” Harry says. And then, “So this is a date?”

Louis meets his gaze then, eyebrows furrowing. “Is it not?”

Harry shifts, not liking that the pressure of deciding was placed on him. “What about Zayn?” He answers the question with another.

Louis frowns a bit, “What about Zayn?”

And Harry, for a fleeting moment believes that maybe, just maybe, ZaynandLouis isn’t. That it’s Zayn and Louis. Two separate entities. “Zayn’s your boyfriend.” Harry says blankly. They haven’t even ordered their bacon cheeseburgers, but at this rate Harry doubts they will. 

Louis nods once, still not seeming to grasp the concept. “Yes, Zayn is my boyfriend.”

It kinda hurts to hear those words coming out of Louis’ mouth, but Harry ignores the little stab of pain. “Well, then it’s not a date, is it?” He prays it comes out lighthearted and not bitter like he feels.

Louis frowns, “I thought… Harry.”

And Harry can feel the tears welling up behind his eyes. He doesn’t want to cry though, but he’s a bit mad. He feels like he’s being used, like Louis is playing some cruel joke and he doesn’t know where he’s getting off dragging Harry along to a maybe-possibly-it’s-up-to-you date and then call Zayn his boyfriend on their dumb stupid maybe-possibly-it’s-up-to-you date even before they’d ordered their food. 

Louis must see the wetness pool in Harry’s eyes because his voice turns soft, “Harry, love.” And usually the term makes Harry preen with affection and adoration, but today it feels a bit like a twist of a knife. “The other night, when Zayn tried to cook. Was that a date?”

A few tears have slipped past Harry’s eyes, and he’s staring down at his lap, trying not to let Louis see his lower lip wobble. He racks in a breath, before shrugging. “No.” Harry looks up, meeting Louis eyes.

Louis leans back a bit, “Oh.” He sounds almost disappointed.

And Harry thinks for a bit, the whole night had had a _date_ feel to it. But it couldn’t have been. It was ZaynandLouis, and Harry. Harry separated by space, added like an afterthought. He shakes his head a bit, “It couldn’t have been.”

Louis’ whole demeanor changes, his whole body seems to melt, his body visibly relaxing. “But, why not?”

Harry wants to laugh. “Zayn was there. It was Zayn, you, and me, Lou. It wasn’t a date.”

“It could be.” Louis says simply, leaning forward a bit, eyes searching Harry’s face eagerly.

Harry thinks that maybe they should have ordered their food before they started this conversation, he’d love for someone to come by and stop this. He wasn’t quite understanding were Louis was getting. He didn’t like the little surge of hope that had made his heart flutter. 

“No,” Harry shakes his head, he hopes Louis pushes it, explains a bit. But instead he leans back, seemingly resigned.

“Should I go order then? Bacon cheeseburges, right? Chips?”

Harry nods and watches as Louis goes order.

+++

 

Louis doesn’t call for two days. 

Harry promises he won’t give in. Wont text first. He wonders if Zayn and Louis are laughing at him. ‘He thought it was a date,’ Louis would say, running a hand through Zayn’s hair and Zayn would laugh. 

But Harry knows Louis and he knows Zayn and he knows that he could make an arse of himself in the worst way and they would never laugh at him harshly.

He gives in on the third day, texting a simple ‘hi.’

Louis responds almost immediately as if he had been waiting anxiously for Harry’s olive branch in the form of a text.

Neither mention their maybe-possibly-definitely-not date. Harry doesn’t know if his heart squeezes in relief because Louis doesn’t mention it, or squeezes painfully because he doesn’t mention it. He thinks it might be the latter.

 

+++

 

“Aims,” Nick starts, but before he gets a word about the tea Aimee had made, rather than coffee (and before Aimee can say, ‘really Nick there’s that instant coffee shit you like, i’m not going to roast a brew just for you.’) Harry cuts in, “Can I ask you two something?”

Harry’s legs are pointed towards the ceiling, his head dangling off the couch, hair almost reaching the carpet in Aimee’s apartment. “It’s kinda, personal. Maybe a bit… odd.” He knows his friends won’t _judge_ him, but he wants to just be completely and totally sure.

“Sure, honey.” And Aimee sounds completely sincere, happy to cut off Nick’s whines. “What is it?”

“Nick, you remember about those two friends, and the boyfriend, and the threesome.” He hopes Nick remembers, it’s been a while and Nick forgets easily. “It wasn’t friends, it was about me.”

Harry can practically hear Nick’s eye roll. “Of course, Harry. And the other two are Zayn and Louis from the bar.”

“How’d you know?” Harry asks, glancing at Nick from his angle, twisting his head a bit.

“We went over it in with face value, remember?” Nick asks, and they had but Harry had hoped that Nick had forgotten about that part of the conversation. “Figured, you’ve been spending all your time with _Lou_ , figured Zayn was thrown in there too. What was the sex good?” Nick asks, and Aimee leans forward, not bothering to ask about the story she didn’t know. Or maybe Nick had already shared (and knowing Nick it was probably the latter).

“We haven’t.” Harry shakes his head a bit. “That’s not what this is about.”

“Oh,” Nick seems a bit dejected, sitting back on the couch and taking a sip of tea, pulling a face.

“So what is about, Harry?” Aimee says, she at least has the decency to still look interested, very pointedly ignoring Nick’s expressions.

“Like, it’s just.” Harry knows it’s fairly simple, but he’s never been particularly articulate. “I think they might want to date me?” It sounds a bit vain to his ears. Like he’s full of himself enough to think that both Louis _and_ Zayn want to date _him._ “Or maybe just Louis? I’m not too sure.” And that was true, after all when they’d gone to the pub Zayn hadn’t been there, but Louis had considered dinner at his flat a date and Zayn had been there then. But maybe it was some odd thing where Zayn had to approve of Harry before Harry could become… what exactly? Louis’ second boyfriend? A lover? Some sort of side fuck?

Aimee’s eyebrows furrowed. “Like Louis wants you to be a on the side hook-up?”

“I think.” Harry chooses his words carefully. “I asked if we were on a date, and he said we could be if I wanted to. Which was nice,” Harry meets Aimee’s eyes. “He’s nice. But then, I mentioned Zayn, and I don’t think he quite _understood_ why it couldn’t be a date if Zayn was his _boyfriend._ ”

Nick looks at Harry, raising an eyebrow, but didn’t contribute.

Harry continues, “I told him it couldn’t be a date, right? And then he asked me if our last…” _Date_. “If the last time we hanged out at his flat was a date. And maybe it was? But Zayn was there, so it couldn’t have been.”

“And how did he react?” Aimee asked; Nick still wasn’t talking, sipping his tea quietly for once.

“Guess he seemed a bit dejected.” 

“Hm.” Aimee says, sitting back but adding no insight, seemingly stumped.

It’s not until Nick sets down his tea cup louder than necessary that Harry glances up at his silent friend. Nick rolls his eyes very pointedly, making a show out of it. “Honestly, don’t know why I’m friends with a bunch of idiots.”

“We’re the only one’s able to tolerate you,” Aimee says. “What are you on about?”

“Harry, listen. Zayn _and_ Louis _both_ want to date you from what it sounds like.” Nick lets his words sink in. 

“That makes no sense.” Harry settles on, contemplating Nick’s words a bit. 

Nick rolls his eyes again and Harry briefly hopes they stick like that. “Don’t know how it doesn’t. Polyamory, Harry. The first time, when it felt like a date, it was because it was a date, moron.”

“Heyyy,” Harry says, glaring softly at Nick for calling him a moron.

“Hey!” Aimee says, smiling widely. “No, that makes sense Harry. I remember this girl in my english class in uni was in a similar relationship. For the longest time I thought she was cheating on her girlfriend, but…” She shrugs. 

“I just.” He still didn’t quite get it. “What does that even mean?”

“Well,” Nick says, slowly. “I’m guessing for different people it means different things.” 

Harry nods. He’s not sure if that was what Louis had been hinting at. “He could have just said it, though, right? Could have been up front with me. Him or Zayn.” 

Nick shrugs carelessly. 

“Might of made you run for the hills, though. Would have made me. Although,” Aimee says. “Zayn is fit, might not have.”

Harry smiles, “He is fit.” And the hope in his chest was threatening to break open his ribcage.

“Honestly don’t understand why you’re still here when you could be fucking ZaynandLouis.” Nick says.

Harry grins wider, liking how it sounds, adding his name. ZaynandLouisandHarry. It’s a bit of a mouthful, but it makes him feel warm inside. Knowing that he maybe doesn’t have to be a thoughtless addition to ZaynandLouis, thinking that maybe Zayn and Louis and Harry can all exist separately and together, that they can be ZaynandHarry and HarryandLouis and all best of all, ZaynandHarryandLouis.

 

+++

 

He texts Louis that afternoon, a simple, ‘i kinda figured something out today.’

Louis texts a single question mark.

Harry rolls his eyes, calling him instead of replying to the short text. 

“Hey,” Louis sounds a bit breathless, but Harry doesn’t care enough to ask.

“Hey,” Harry says, feeling his insides melt. He really, really likes this boy. 

“Hey!” Comes a distant greeting from Louis’ end. Zayn.

“Hi,” Harry says, knowing Zayn won’t hear him but the intent is still there.

“Everything alright, Harry?” Louis asks.

“Yeah.” Better than alright. “Think it’s okay if I drop by a bit later?” 

“Yeah,” Louis sounds a bit hesitant, and Harry wonders if he blew his chance. “Zayn’ll be around, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind leaving for a bit, if it makes you uncomfortable or-”

“I’d rather he be there,” Harry cuts in, because truly Louis could be ridiculous.

“Oh.” Louis pauses. “Okay, yeah, see ya then?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be over in like an hour, yeah? Just need to shower.”

“Okay.” Louis says again, the word is a bit hollow.

 

+++

 

There’s a brief moment after Harry knocks that he considers turning around and running down the stairs and fleeing. But something is screaming at him telling that that’s a bad idea and that he needs to grow up a bit and face his problems straight on.

Zayn opens the door, “Harry!” He seems genuinely pleased to see Harry as he pulls him in. “How are you, babes?”

“Good, great.” 

Zayn pulls him in. “I cooked today. Like actually, properly cooked. Followed a recipe an all.” He looked proud. “Eleanor and Sophia are coming over Saturday and I wanted to practice before.” 

“Harry,” Louis says, coming from out of the kitchen. “Hi.” He doesn’t mention what Harry had figured out, not yet. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Water’ll be fine.” Harry nods as Zayn pushes Harry towards a couch. 

“I’ll get it,” he says before fleeting out of the room.

“Keep telling him he drinks too many of those energy drinks; it hardly even lasts, he always crashes after a while.” Louis says sitting down. “Everything alright then?” The _why are you here_ is implied, albeit it’s not a mean one, a simple curious one.

“Yeah, um. This might sounds a bit…” He searches for the right word. “Egotistical. It might sound like I’m full of myself or something, and please tell me if I’m making a total arse of myself. But um, I was talking to my mate Nick,” and Zayn should really be back with the water by now, but Harry’s kind of glad he isn’t, not sure if he’d be able to get the right words with both Louis and Zayn in the same room. “Well, Nick and Aims, they took me to the club the first time. I was telling them about our, uh, maybe-date.” He’s not sure if he should lower his voice, hope Zayn can’t hear from the kitchen, but if what Nick had shared is true (and Harry is really, really hoping it is) then he knows that Zayn already knows about the maybe-date and therefore there’s no reason for him to lower his voice. “He thinks that it was a date.”

“I thought so too.” Louis meets his eyes, before glancing down at the floor.

“But he also said that maybe that other time, when we had like a proper dinner, he thinks that was a date also.”

“I thought so too.” Louis keeps eye contact this time around.

“But I didn’t really understand that. Didn’t quite get that it didn’t have to be ZaynandLouis or LouisandHarry, that it could just _be_.” He hopes he’s getting his point across, but then remembering that Zayn and Louis not being straight forward was maybe one of the few reason why he was having this conversation with Louis while Zayn hid out in their shared kitchen. “I guess, I’ve just never really considered having polyamorous relationships. It’s a bit new.” Louis’ grin could rival the sun. Harry couldn’t help but grin back just as brightly. “That’s what this is, right? You’re not cheating on Zayn with me, right?” He just needs a little bit of reassurance. Maybe if Zayn decided to finally come back in, that’d be good too.

Louis smiles, “Yeah. I mean, Zayn and I. At first, it was just a bit of, uh.” Louis seems to be struggling to word what he’s trying to say.

Zayn chooses that moment to come in, obviously he’d been listening in the doorway because there’s was no glass of water in sight. He bounded straight to the couch where Louis was sitting, settling down half in his lap. “Louis was smitten with you, that first night at the bar. He said he wouldn’t have minded a threesome. And that’s kind of what we were shooting at, first, right baby?” Zayn looks at Louis who nods sheepishly. “But then, I think things sorta just developed naturally. And we discussed it a bit. That day you came over, after the hand job incident- which really, Harry, that was me trying to initiate a little group sex, hoping to get things started on some level. Well, after the hand job incident when you came over for dinner for the date, we thought you might have been on board too. We’d tried the polyamory thing before.”

“The guy ran for the hills as soon as we said the word polyamory. Although we’d been casually hooking up- all three of us.” Louis said, shrugging a bit dejectedly. 

“And sometimes two of us on the side.” Zayn smiled, recalling their past relationship. “I kept telling Louis it wasn’t the polyamory thing so much as being in a committed relationship that made Liam run for the hills, but alas, Louis is…” He doesn’t finish what Louis is. 

Harry feels a bit jealousy of the faceless stranger Liam, but then he felt lucky knowing that some faceless bloke had fucked up with Zayn and Louis and left room for Harry.

“It’s up to you,” Louis said. “It’s not, easy.” He shrugs a bit. “Sometimes we get jealous, sometimes one of us feels left out, but it’s… it’s good for the most part.”

Harry nods, “I’d like to.”

 

+++

 

It’s been a few weeks, and sometimes Harry does feel left out- like when Louis and Zayn share an inside joke, in the moments before Louis looks over at him and smiles and Zayn jumps in and shares the story. He feels a bit jealous, as well, when Zayn and Louis are home alone and Harry gets home and sees them both sex-rumpled, but those feelings usually fade when they jump on him, smothering him with kisses.

It’s good though.

It’s better than good, even.

Harry feels a lot in love with two gorgeous boys who are both _his_. 

He silently thanks Nick for dragging him along to the strip club, can almost hear Nick’s snarky ‘I told you so’ even as he lays sandwiched between two warm bodies.

 

**Author's Note:**

> you can talk to me on [tumblr](http://28rs.tumblr.com) if you'd like...


End file.
